"You Zanzibaris, so long as you receive five or six pounds of flour and as many pounds of meat daily, become so lazy, you would not go to the steamer for more to provide rations while she would be absent. She has been gone now several days, your rations are nearly exhausted, of course, for who can supply you with as much meat as you can waste, and you left camp without permission, to steal from the Balegga. There was quite a party of you, I hear, and most of you, 1888.
May 12.
Nsabé. on seeing the village fairly crowded with natives, were more prudent than others, and traded a little meat for flour, but your bolder companions passed on, and began to loot fowls. The natives resented this, shot their arrows at the thieves, who fired in return, and there was a general flight. One of your number has been killed. I have lost a rifle, and three more of you have been wounded, and will be unfit for work for a long time. That is the truth of the matter, and therefore I shall give you no medicines. Cure your own wounds if you can, and you three fellows, if you recover, shall pay me for my rifle.

May 13th.—Halt at Nsabé.

The doctor returned from his quest of the missing without further incident than burning two small villages and firing a few shots at distant parties. He was unable to recover the body of the Zanzibari, or his Winchester rifle. Where he fell was marked with a good deal of blood, and it is probable that he wounded some of his foes.

A real tornado blew last night. Inky clouds gathering to the S.E.E. and N.E. prepared us somewhat for a wet night, but not for the fearful volume of wind which pressed on us with such solid force as to wreck camp and lay low the tents. The sound, as it approached, resembled that which we might expect from the rupture of a dam or the rush from a collapsed reservoir. The rain, swept by such a powerful force, pierced everywhere. No precaution that we had been taught by past experience of this Nyanza weather availed us against the searching, penetrative power of the rain and its fine spray. From under the huts and tents, and along the ridge poles, through close shut windows, ventilators, and doors, the tornado drove the rain in until we were deluged. To contend against such power of wind and water in a pitchy darkness in the midst of a deafening uproar was so hopeless a task that our only refuge was to bear it in silence and with closed lips. Daylight revealed a placid lake, a ragged sky, plateau tops buried in masses of vapour, a wrecked camp, 1888.
May 13.
Nsabé. prostrate tents, and soaking furniture. So terrible was the roar of the surf that we should have wished to have viewed the careering rollers and tempestuous face of the lake by daylight. It is to be hoped that the old Khedive was safely harboured, otherwise she must have foundered.

May 14th.—Halt at Nsabé.

The steamer Khedive arrived this afternoon, bringing in a supply of millet grain and a few milch cows. The Pasha came up smiling with welcome gifts for each of us. To me he gave a pair of stout walking shoes in exchange for a smaller pair of boots to be given him on my return with the rear column. Mr. Jephson was made happy with a shirt, a singlet, and a pair of drawers; while Dr. Parke. whose grand kit had been stolen by an absconding Zanzibari, received a blue jersey, a singlet, and a pair of drawers. Each of us also received a pot of honey, some bananas, oranges, and water melons, onions, and salt. I also received a pound of "Honey dew Tobacco" and a bottle of pickles.

These gifts, such as clothes, that our officers have received from Emin Pasha, reveal that he was not in the extreme distress we had imagined, and that there was no necessity for the advance to have pressed forward so hurriedly.[14] We left all our comforts and reserves of clothing behind at Yambuya, that we might press on to the rescue of one whom we imagined was distressed not only for want of means of defence from enemies, but in want of clothing. Besides the double trip we have made to Lake Albert, I fear I shall have to travel far to go to the rescue of Major Barttelot and the rear column. God only knows where he is. He may not have left Yambuya yet, and if so we shall have 1300 miles extra marching to perform. It is a terribly long march through a forbidding country, and I fear I shall lose many and many a good soul before it is ended. However, God's will be done.

1888.
May 14.
Nsabé. He introduced to me to-day Selim Bey and Major Awash Effendi, and other officers. I had suggested to him two or three days ago that he could assist me greatly if he constructed a small station on Nyamsassi Island, where we would be sure to have easy communication with his people, on which he also could store a reserve of corn ready for the arrival of the united Expedition, and he readily promised me. But I confess to experiencing some wonder to-day when he turned to Awash Effendi, the Major, and said, rather pleadingly I thought, "Now promise me before Mr. Stanley that you will give me forty men to build this station, which Mr. Stanley so much desires." There is something about this that I do not understand. It is certainly not like my ideal Governor, Vice-King, and leader of men, to talk in that strain to subordinates.

Had another conversation with Emin Pasha to-day, from which I feel convinced that we shall not only have to march to the Albert Nyanza again, but that we shall have to wait afterwards at least two months before he can get his people together. Instead of setting to work during our absence to collect his people and prepare for the journey, it is proposed to wait until my return with the rear column, when it is expected I shall go as far as Dufflé to persuade the people to follow me. He still feels assured his people will not go to Egypt, but may be induced to march as far as the Victoria Nyanza.

I asked him if the report was true that he had captured 13,000 head of cattle during an incursion to the western cattle-lands.